


Pace Is the Trick

by LikeSatellites



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sex Shop, Joohyuk Bingo, M/M, changki are getting married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-20 22:13:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16564109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LikeSatellites/pseuds/LikeSatellites
Summary: Jooheon turns at the sound of his name. He immediately regrets it. The store clerk is one of those dangerous, rebellious-looking boys who probably doesn’t go to Church or answer his mom’s texts--the ones that all the scripted teenage dramas told Jooheon to both adore and fear. Jooheon’s mom has clearly always said: find someone 1) good to their parents, 2) God-fearing, and 3) successful. Jooheon claimed it was impossible. You can’t be all three at once. Those with money have no reason to fear God.The guy--his nametag says “MINHYUK!! HE/HIM!! ASK ME ANYTHING!!”--has hair dyed a pinkish orange like the last dregs of a warm summer sunset. His face is tan and smooth like a BB-cream-painted ceramic plate, and there’s reddish brown eyeshadow flecked at the corners of his eyes. His pants are tight, tight, tight black denim with rips over his thighs. One rip is so high up that Jooheon can see the black edge of his boxers beneath.





	Pace Is the Trick

**Author's Note:**

> JOOHYUK BINGO SQUARE ONE!!!   
> Sex Shop AU.   
> I hope you guys enjoy--come find me on twitter @likesatellitez.

“I’m not sure I understand,” Jooheon says, as Changkyun drags him bodily up 9th Ave, the soles of his sneakers catching on old petrified gum as he attempts to dig in his heels. 

“We’re going to Sinsation because I’m getting married in 72 hours, and I’m  _ scared _ ,” Changkyun declares, managing to yank Jooheon forward by the wrist, despite the fact that Jooheon could probably squat-press Changkyun’s entire mass if he wanted to. Changkyun is  _ nothing _ if not dedicated. 

“You’re scared, so we have to go look at dildos?” Jooheon whines, body completely off balance as Changkyun drags him.

And then Changkyun stops. Right outside his favorite inconspicuous erotic goods store, and his face starts crumpling. Chin quivering, nose scrunching, the whole show. “What if we get  _ boring _ ?”

Jooheon sighs, trying to peer into the window of Sinsation to see if he can gauge how horrifying it’s going to be for him. “Changkyun, I know you can’t possibly think you and Kihyun could ever get boring. You met six years ago ... at a  _ bdsm club _ . Where he sexually set parts of your body on fire.”

“Exactly! We already have six years of adventure under our belts, and now we’re going to be  _ monogamous _ and--”

Jooheon arches a brow, and Changkyun pauses. 

“--okay so we’re not going to be  _ monogamous _ per se, but marriage has imp--” he glances wearily toward the door. “Implications, you know?”

Jooheon rolls his eyes up to the heavens. “I thought you were just getting married because, quote,  _ I need his health insurance, and he claims we’ll get a tax break _ .”

Changkyun reaches for the shop door, tan fingers deftly snagging the knob before Jooheon can slap his hand away. The bell rings above them in the doorway, so it’s too late to run away. Changkyun slithers his way under Jooheon’s arm and slips inside. Jooheon sighs once more and follows him.

The store is pretty small. It’s more like a little neon-pink-walled hallway. There’s a guy at the desk against the left wall, his Doc Martens kicked up atop the tabletop, a wrinkled paperback in his hands, pages blocking his face. When Changkyun steps further inside, though, he drops the book down to the desk and cries, “Welcome, y’all!”

Changkyun seems thrilled to have such enthusiastic help. He strides up to the counter and places his palms down on the wood. He leans in and gives the guy  _ the face _ . The one that got Jooheon inside the store in the first place. 

Jooheon tries to ignore the exchange. He tries to ignore everything. The shelves lining the walls, stacked with brightly colored silicon and dangling with leather. He stares out the front window in protest, watching as a construction worker drops his sub sandwich into an open manhole. 

He hears Changkyun say, “Please help me.”

“That’s my job. Are you looking for something in particular?” The guy steps around his desk. Jooheon hears the loud footfalls of heavy boots on the tiled floor. “You two together or--?”

“No,” Changkyun scoffs, “that’s Jooheon. He’s my best man. I’m getting married.” He brandishes the thick gold band on his finger. “See?”

Jooheon turns at the sound of his name. He immediately regrets it. The store clerk is one of those dangerous, rebellious-looking boys who probably doesn’t go to Church or answer his mom’s texts--the ones that all the scripted teenage dramas told Jooheon to both adore and fear. Jooheon’s mom has clearly always said: find someone 1) good to their parents, 2) God-fearing, and 3) successful. Jooheon claimed it was impossible. You can’t be all three at once. Those with money have no reason to fear God.

The guy--his nametag says “MINHYUK!! HE/HIM!! ASK ME ANYTHING!!”--has hair dyed a pinkish orange like the last dregs of a warm summer sunset. His face is tan and smooth like a BB-cream-painted ceramic plate, and there’s reddish brown eyeshadow flecked at the corners of his eyes. His pants are tight, tight,  _ tight _ black denim with rips over his thighs. One rip is so high up that Jooheon can see the black edge of his boxers beneath. 

“Married? Congratulations…?”

“Changkyun. My future husband’s name is Kihyun. He’s a professional dom in the NLA New York chapter. We met at Shangri-La a few years ago.”

“Oh, I actually think I know him,” Minhyuk laughs. “I’m part of the same chapter. I’m no professional, but I like to network.” He claps his big hands together like a trained seal. “Well, congratulations to you. It seems you probably shouldn’t need my help, though, considering your meet-cute.”

“No,  _ please _ ,” Changkyun wails, reaching for Minhyuk’s arm. Clutching onto him like a child. And yet somehow this child is getting married before Jooheon. “I don’t want to end up like the hets. I don’t want to get  _ boring _ .”

Minhyuk purses his lips, but a snorting laugh pops out despite his efforts. “Don’t tell anyone, but I get a lot of requests like this from those same ‘hets.’ What are you thinking, though? Once the ceremony ends, your fun kinky life is going to come to a screeching halt?”

Changkyun nods, still clinging to Minhyuk. Jooheon, embarrassed, grabs Changkyun by the hood of his coat and drags him away. 

“Sorry. He’s twenty-five, but he’s very spoiled, so you can hardly tell,” Jooheon apologizes. “I had hoped Kihyun would’ve been able to  _ train  _ you better but--”

“He’s the only one I’ll be good for, so shut it, Honey,” Changkyun snips, turning to smirk at Jooheon. He turns back to Minhyuk, smile shifting back from satanic to something disturbingly cherubic. “We grew up together. Best friends. Though you’d never guess, since he’s always  _ berating me _ .”

“Am not! I just want you to remember not everyone is as...open-minded as you are,” Jooheon mutters, staring down at his feet. His periphery is a blur of neon and pastel and  _ leather _ . “He actually told his mother where he and Kihyun met.”

“She  _ asked _ . You want me to lie to my own mother? The one who carried me? Gave me life?” Changkyun protests. “Anyhow, though, back to helping m--”

“It isn’t lying. It’s  _ protecting her _ .”

“She thought it was hilarious. My mom isn’t your mom, Honey,” Changkyun says, rolling his eyes like a smug child. “But, anyhow, back to me.”

Minhyuk seems nothing but amused, which is good, considering Jooheon has worked retail before and knows the agony of... _ difficult _ customers. He claps his hands together again and waves with a flourish around the little store. “Well, I know all there is to know about these products, so please take a long browse and let me know what seems to pique your interest.”

Changkyun nods and takes Jooheon by the wrist again to tug him over to the long wall of neon shelves. Minhyuk returns to his desk, but Jooheon can see him flickering his gaze over the pages of his book to watch them. Jooheon’s skin feels tight over his cheeks. At the back of his skull, where he senses Minhyuk’s gaze. 

“Don’t you already have a toybox?” Jooheon says, swallowing thickly as he eyes the thick 9” pink silicon with swirling ridges all up the sides. “And, you know, a fiance with a dick with which to fuck you?”

“It’s called  _ double penetration _ ,” Minhyuk calls from his spot, clearly having been listening the entire time. 

“I don’t...but...what’s the second hole?”

Changkyun turns to Minhyuk, arms thrown up to the ceiling. “Do you see what I deal with? Do you see it?  _ This _ is my best friend!”

Minhyuk just patiently waits for Changkyun to finish whining and gently replies, “Some people take two in the same hole, Jooheon.”

“Ahhh…” Jooheon feels heat bubbling up in his gut, averting his eyes to the floor again. 

“Though there are certain items you can purchase to penetrate another hole, if you are into that.”

“Other hole…?”

Changkyun leans in and whispers, “Pee hole.”

Jooheon chokes on his sharp inhale, face feeling like molten wax, hot and sticky. “Why would you--nevermind!! Not gonna think about it. Just...can you get your stuff? I need to meet Hyungwon at seven to set up the weekly church potluck.”

“I think Hyungwon can handle a couple trays of kimbap and macaroni on his own,” Changkyun says, plucking a bullet vibrator off a shelf and eyeing the price on the bottom. “Why’s this one so expensive?” 

Minhyuk comes back over, gleefully holding up the screen of his cellphone. The phone is wrapped in a big fuzzy wolf case. “There’s an app. It’s remote-controlled. Super far-reaching, too. Your partner can control the rhythm and intensity of the vibrations from pretty much anywhere--unless you’re without service and as long as they have the app.”

Changkyun looks at the screen in pure childlike wonder as Minhyuk fiddles with the controls and the little purple device in Changkyun’s hand starts buzzing rhythmically. He thrusts the vibrator into Jooheon’s hands and says, “ _ Feel this _ , oh my god. This is amazing. This would  _ destroy  _ me. I mean dee-stroyyy. Kihyun would love this.”

“By ‘Kihyun would love this,’ you mean you would love this, right? You’re a slut for punishment,” Jooheon replies, internally admitting that the idea of it is--not  _ so _ unpleasant.

Nope. He’s not here to learn about himself. He’s here to get Changkyun what he wants and go.

Minhyuk is watching him like he knows. Like he’s seen this episode before.

Jooheon places the still-buzzing toy back onto its shelf, and it bobbles around in circles, confused. Changkyun giggles. Minhyuk laughs, and Jooheon both likes and hates the sound of it.

“I’ll take it,” Changkyun declares, yanking his wallet from his coat pocket. 

“Gonna use Daddy’s credit card?” Jooheon taunts.

Changkyun whips a platinum American Express Card from the leather holder. “Don’t sound so jealous, Honey. I’m sure we can find you a nice Daddy with... a  _ gold _ card, maybe.”

“Not necessary,” Jooheon splutters, trailing after Changkyun and up to the register. “I have a good job. I can buy my own...what...evers.”

Changkyun drops the box onto the counter and brandishes the platinum card with great pleasure on his sweet tan face. “I can buy my own ‘whatevers,’ too. It just makes it more fun sometimes to be spoiled.”

“Feels good to earn it this way too, right?” Minhyuk asks, grinning.

Changkyun waves a hand at Minhyuk. “An intellectual.”

Minhyuk looks right at Jooheon again, and Jooheon hates how his body gives a shiver that runs all the way from his tailbone up his spine and rattles in his teeth. “That’ll be $89.99,” Minhyuk says, and why is he still looking at Jooheon when Changkyun is checking out, why is he smiling like he can see beneath Jooheon’s fading summer skin, like he can read the scrolling text running around and around the inside of his skull whispering  _ he’s so hot he’s so hot he’s so hot _ ?

“I earn it,” Jooheon mutters to himself. 

Minhyuk flickers his gaze up from the register as he swipes Changkyun’s card. “I bet you do, Jooheon.”

Changkyun glances from Minhyuk to Jooheon. Back and forth. A kitten taunted with treats. “Is this how you flirt, Jooheon? Are you  _ flirting _ ?”

Jooheon scoffs, but it’s more like a a choking laugh that shatters into pieces in his throat. He grabs his phone from his pocket and swipes at the screen, pretending to receive a call. “Hyungwon?” he asks himself, much too loudly, gesturing apologetically at the door as he rapidly exits the store and stands on the sidewalk.

Changkyun and Minhyuk continue talking for a frustrating amount of time as Jooheon lingers on the sidewalk pretending to talk to Hyungwon about the church potluck, even though they aren’t listening. He can feel them both watching him through the Sinsation window. 

Changkyun eventually strides out confidently with his inconspicuous black paper bag, which he swings around blissfully. “He thinks you’re cute.”

Jooheon clutches at his phone in his pocket, tempted to pretend to get another call, but he knows Changkyun can read him way too easily. “Stop bullshitting me.”

“I’m not. You walked out and he stared right at your ass and said ‘he’s so fuckin’ cute.’”

Jooheon’s chest fills with hot boiling water like his heart is a teabag, steeping and filling his entire chest cavity with this sweet warmth. “Whatever. I’ll never see him again anyhow.”

 

Leave it to Changkyun Im to have a wedding in a dim sum hall. There’s a karaoke booth up front, at the altar where the ceremony just took place. Kihyun is down on his knees belting Whitney Houston, and Changkyun couldn’t look happier, perched beside him on a dim sum trolley, cheeks stuffed with bao that he started eating without peeling off the parchment paper. 

Jooheon is picking at his plate of shumai when someone pulls out the chair beside him at Table 2. 

“I came at just the right time, huh?” 

Jooheon tightens his grip on his thin wooden chopsticks, and they give a little squeak as they threaten to snap. “Changkyun invited the sex toy clerk to his wedding.”

“He sure did!” Minhyuk chirps, dropping down into the chair beside Jooheon. “And looks like he put me right beside you.”

“It’s  _ his _ wedding, but  _ I’ve _ been given the gift, clearly,” Jooheon sighs, shoveling shumai into his mouth. Up front, there comes the sound of Changkyun grabbing a second microphone to rap alongside Kihyun’s rendition of “Where is the love?” 

“This is certainly an,” Minhyuk pauses, considering his words carefully, “ _ unconventional _ wedding.”

“I can’t believe he invited the guy from Sinsation to his wedding last minute,” Jooheon mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No offense. But it’s a bit bizarre.”

“More or less bizarre than being handed personalized packets of lube with their wedding date on them upon entry to the dim sum hall?” Minhyuk asks, waving the little packets after pulling them from his pocket. There’s gorgeous, intricate calligraphy on the packaging that reads: MAY THE PATH OF OUR LOVE BE AS SMOOTH ~KIHYUN & CHANGKYUN 2018~

“He said he wanted something not gender-specific. I think you could also ask for candy. Our Ace friend Hyunwoo personally requested the candy option. There’s some M&Ms with their faces on them.”

“Wow,” Minhyuk says, putting the lube packets down onto his plate, right over the little rosette of butter. “And their parents are…?”

“This is the friend ceremony. Not sure what they did for their families. Though Changkyun’s mom is super chill. Like, buy-you-and-your-fiance-two-tickets-for-a-Kinkster-Cruise chill.”

“I dunno if that’s awesome or--”

“Best not to think about it too hard. I’ve known him my entire life, and I still find myself unable to wrap my brain around his existence,” Jooheon replies, gaze flitting over to where Changkyun is now sitting on Kihyun’s lap atop an ornate phoenix statue that they’re pretending to ride whilst singing “A Whole New World.” Changkyun is doing Jasmine’s part, and all the water glasses on the tables shake with the waves from his screeching. Kihyun somehow looks nothing but proud and endeared by it, like Changkyun is his sweet new puppy just pissing all over his carpet while still being undoubtedly precious.

“Love is magical,” Minhyuk cooes, watching them rapturously. “Don’t you think?”

“It’s magical that you can find something positive in all this.”

“He’s your best friend, isn’t he? Aren’t you happy for him?”

“What?” Jooheon turns to Minhyuk finally, tired of squinting at him through his periphery. He notes, suddenly, that Minhyuk’s hair has been dyed back to a cool dark brown. He’s even wearing a suit. From this angle, he almost looks...normal. 

“You know...aren’t you glad he’s found love?”

“Of course I am,” Jooheon declares. “I didn’t think he’d make it past his seventeenth birthday, after that time he accidentally buried himself alive-- _ don’t ask _ \--but now here I am.”

“ _ We _ are. Here  _ we _ are.”

“What?”

Minhyuk leans his elbow down on the edge of the table, chin cupped in his big tan palm. Jooheon notices how long his fingers are as they curve around his jaw. “My mom always told me to find a nice religious Korean boy.”

Jooheon’s fingers snag the bottom of the tablecloth, and he grips it tightly, wondering if he could just tug it out from under the plates and flower vases and make a break for the door amid the distraction of shattering ceramic and glass. “Are you flirting with me?”

Minhyuk grins, and his face is pure sin. Pure, unadulterated sin. Jooheon glances to the lube packets on the butter plate. Then back to Minhyuk. His breath quickens. He thinks about trays of macaroni and pot roast down at the Williamsburg hipster church. He thinks about walls and walls of silicon, neon green and pink and purple, rippled with silicon veins and squishy silicon cock heads. He thinks about Minhyuk’s long, long fingers. 

“Would it help if I said I go to church on holidays?”

Jooheon draws in a sharp gasp, grabs the entire butter plate, and abruptly stands. “There’s a locked back room where they’re hiding the presents,” he blurts.

“Whoa, baby,” Minhyuk cries, grabbing Jooheon by the back of his blazer and following as Jooheon power walks to the locked room. “I meant a date.” 

Jooheon pauses, fingers hovering over the lock pad. “Does this count as a date? I think this counts as a date.”

Minhyuk presses Jooheon up against the door, cold metal against his back. “I want to kiss you a little before we get rowdy in the presents room.”

“Oh God, you say ‘rowdy,’” Jooheon groans, and then groans again when Minhyuk slots his leg up between Jooheon’s thighs. “Just kiss me, danggit.”

“Changkyun did say you could be very chatty,” Minhyuk replies, curving in and taking Jooheon’s flushed cheeks in his hands. He tips Jooheon’s face up to the glaring yellow artificial light in the dim sum employee hallway. Then his lips are on Jooheon’s and they feel like chapstick and warm wet skin. He can taste oyster sauce from the char siu bao, mixed in with the fresh sharp tang of oversteeped oolong tea. Jooheon gasps into Minhyuk’s mouth and cants his hips down against Minhyuk’s thigh. “What else did Changkyun say about me?”

Minhyuk leans in and nips at Jooheon’s sharp cupid’s both with his teeth. “He said you fuck like panic.”

Jooheon tips his head against the door. “I don’t do it often,” he admits, shuddering as Minhyuk’s lips meet his throat. “But when I do...I’m aware of how not often I do it.”

“So you should let yourself take your time,” Minhyuk says, breath hot as it ghosts over the now-wet skin of his neck. 

“Who knows how long it’ll last? I have to at least get one round down as quick as I can and then go from there,” Jooheon murmurs, fisting his hands into the silky material of Minhyuk’s suit jacket. 

Minhyuk just laughs, and it isn’t the most attractive laugh--kinda wheezy and sharp--but for some reason Jooheon’s knees nearly buckle. Jooheon fingers the code into the lock pad and yanks the door open. They fall through the doorway, Minhyuk’s arms coiling around Jooheon to catch him or maybe just due to gravity. The door is loud. Rattling old metal. 

But Minhyuk has found the couch. Brushed the envelopes and gift boxes down onto the floor. Pressed Jooheon down against old rusty-spring cushions. And he’s climbed over him in that silky black suit with a bright blue velvet skinny tie. Jooheon grabs him by the hair and pulls him back down against his lips. 

And even just kissing Minhyuk makes Jooheon feel like panic. Their bodies don’t stop moving against one another. It’s just friction and everything is clammy with sweat and Minhyuk seems to really enjoy how the panic takes Jooheon like this. He ruts their hips together all slowly, stopping completely when Jooheon makes to increase the speed or pressure. He laughs like a broken windshield right in Jooheon’s face when Jooheon begins leaking through his slacks and whining petulantly. 

And Minhyuk doesn’t make any moves to even get their clothes off. He seems like he couldn’t be happier where they are, frotting sweatily in a dim sum hall employee lounge where nice grandmas probably play mahjong on lunch. And Jooheon finds he really likes it too. 

They end up gasping shaky breaths into one another’s open mouths as they come, completely clothed, in (in Jooheon’s case, rental) suits. Minhyuk presses his thumb to the apple of Jooheon’s cheek and swipes upward. “You cried for me, awwww.”

Jooheon drops his arms down over his face. “I do that sometimes. ‘S allergies.”

“What are you allergic to? Pleasure of the highest caliber?” 

Jooheon groans. 

“I’m serious about that date. I want to take you to eat raviolis in Hell’s Kitchen. I want to tour that stupid submarine everyone pays lots of money to look at. I want to kiss you some more. And then maybe we’ll take our clothes off, you know?”

Jooheon cups his hands over the wet stain in his slacks. “I think it’s just ‘ravioli’ in plural.”

“Jooheon,” Minhyuk sighs, despite looking amused. “I promise I’m not an axe murderer or anything. I work at a sex store, but I also teach Kindergarten at this progressive racially diverse Synagogue in the West Village. I think you’re probably the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Like...so pretty I could die, Jooheon. That’s what I told Changkyun.”

“Oh my God.”

“You can absolutely say no,” Minhyuk continues. “I just want to make you feel so good that you cry again. And also hold your hand at Coney Island or something.”

“You don’t even know me,” Jooheon murmurs, embarrassed but pleased. 

“I feel like I do. Plus, everyone knows first impressions are everything.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

Minhyuk hands Jooheon a pink carnation that he stole from the box of broken-stem flowers that didn’t make it into the displays. “I think it’s cute you didn’t know which holes can get penetrated.”

“Oh _ myGod _ \--”

“Also you have  _ ah-mazing  _ thighs,” Minhyuk adds, fixing his hair in the reflection of one of the Tiffany vases that Kihyun insisted on putting on their registry despite all their friends being dirt-ass poor Millennials. Apparently one of Changkyun’s old sugar daddies bought it for them. 

“Okay, yeah,” Jooheon mutters. “A date.”

Minhyuk wheels around, nothing but pure glee on his gorgeous, sharp angel face. “Ferreal?”

“Ferreal. But I’m not calling you Daddy. I’m not like Changkyun.”

“That’s fine,” Minhyuk says, completely serious. “I’ve dabbled in ‘mommy’ and ‘sir’ as well.”

Jooheon lets the heavy door slam loud in Minhyuk’s face when he re-enters the main hall. He can still hear Minhyuk squeaking with greasy laughter as he walks away. Jooheon hates it. But his lips tingle like something amazing, and he’s never felt this light before. 

Minhyuk eventually joins him back at the table, and he’s still grinning.“Changkyun saw me dabbing a wet paper towel over my crotch in the bathroom, and he couldn’t stop screaming ‘ _ I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I’M THE GODDAMN G-O-A-T.’ _ ”

“I hate you both.”

“We think you’re pretty swell.”

Minhyuk cups his chin in his palm again and just stares at Jooheon for what feels like an entire hour of speeches from Changkyun and Kihyun’s friends (like Hoseok, who talks mostly about his and Kihyun’s Marriage Pact that he is from now so gratefully released; and Hyungwon, who talks about how deeply frustrated he is that he’s now trapped in a  _ backup _ Marriage Pact with Hoseok since Kihyun’s pact is broken.) 

“I get it,” Jooheon hisses.

Minhyuk blinks, like he’s waking from a dream. “Huh?”

“You...really didn’t realize you were staring?”

“Sorry I’m a moth.”

“Please don’t.”

Minhyuk’s lips twitch at the corners. “Just  _ draaaaawn _ to your flame.”

“You really didn’t have to talk. You didn’t have to talk at all. Has anyone ever told you that sometimes it’s best not to ever talk at all?”

“Feel free to keep telling me.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
